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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771718">running up that hill (to make a deal with god)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums'>10redplums</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dragons campaign [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons &amp; Dragons - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, canon-typical complicated family relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:00:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The party goes up the mountain to petition a god. Armand finds some things out about his companions. This is fine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>canon-typical dnd party - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dragons campaign [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banned Together Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>running up that hill (to make a deal with god)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cw: there’s a moment of stress vomiting after the unicorn. Also, the aftermath of coming out as trans to someone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You</span>
  <em>
    <span> are Sehanine’s chosen, and you have the power equal to your request. It has to be you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So August the priest of Lathander had said. Standing here at the foot of Lord Lathander’s mountain, on the outskirts, Armand doesn’t feel powerful. He feels eleven years old again, alone, and pleading to anyone who will listen. But he is Sehanine’s chosen, and there is no way through this but forward. He steels himself in the burning light of the high noon sun, ignoring the discomfort of being in front of the others, and advances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a tree-lined path. There are four giants in ornate dress. There is a large bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the giants steps forward and holds a hand up. “Halt, pilgrims,” he says. “To reach the summit of the holy mountain you must pass three trials, of which we are the first. State your names and purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They introduce themselves one by one, Armand willing his hands to stop shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were told by a cleric of Lord Lathander that a cure for Sir Isteval’s injury and the loss of his power would be found here,” Armand says, bowing deeply. “They’ve tried everything. I would petition The Morninglord. I will take your trials.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then step forward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The giant explains what they have to do. The first trial is an offering of something that means something to them, and Armand’s mind whirls with possibilities. Jocaste can’t be here, can she? Can they do that? Is Sir Isteval worth it? Is the world worth it? He almost sags with relief as they indicate a bare patch of ground; Armand’s first trial is to conduct the rites of a funeral. His palms sweat as he sings the song and intones the prayer and digs the soil, and it all goes into the bowl with all the reverence a rite deserves. Senior Reverend Evangeline would be hard-pressed to find fault in it. The giants bid him move past them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Butler gives his food. Agni gives up a weapon. Snow gives up a hunting trophy. Small sacrifices, but it’s only the first trial. He taps the soil off his spade and secures it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t so bad,” Snow says when they join him, tail swishing. Armand nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I honestly thought they’d show me something related to my sister, but here we are,” he says. Snow’s ears perk up, and then the two of them look back. Afhn still has to have his turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think you’ve really talked about your family,” they say. “Granted, neither have I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bowl demands five hundred gold pieces from Afhn, and Armand stops dead as he folds his arms and refuses. Beside them, Agni’s gone pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>extortion,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Agni says, but only shock is stopping Armand from marching back there and smacking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> this is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy place,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armand hisses. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Who says no to A GOD-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t expect a holy bowl to demand monies,” Snow says. Afhn is attempting to negotiate with the giants. Afhn is asking if he has time to prepare, before he fights the four giants. Afhn is going to be murdered in his sleep with Armand’s bare hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may continue, pilgrims,” one giant says. “Two more trials await you, and then you may make your petition to The Morninglord.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We thank you, honored giants,” Butler says, bowing again. Armand bows too, and leaves Afhn to his fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next trial, unfortunately, is not the hike up the mountain. Even with Snow leading it’s tiring, Armand regretting wearing his armor in the heat. He wonders how Butler’s feeling, if the metal is interacting badly with the wood. He wonders if it would be blasphemous to make it rain here, just a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did say it’d be something that means something to us,” he says. Snow nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough trophies to reclaim my family’s honor, so one trophy for this is fine,” Snow says, looking ahead. It’s a mostly clear path, really. They mostly just need to look out for loose stones, and also it’s abominably hot, and eventually Armand asks for a break to take off his armor and adjust his corset. Butler scouts ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t really talk much,” he says. He supposes it’s easy for him to judge Afhn. His trial had only been a funeral. Agni taps ash out of his pipe and then starts to smoke a little. “She hasn’t been answering my letters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your sister? I hope she’s okay,” Snow says. Armand finishes putting his armor away and stretches, his back flexing gratefully. They move on, Butler rejoining them halfway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you keep up with the society pages you may have seen something,” Armand says, voice wry, and then shakes his head. “She’s fine. She’s probably just busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wonder how my own siblings are,” Snow says. “Especially my brother. There’s six of us including me,” they add, when Armand asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… a lot.” He realizes he doesn’t know how tabaxi give birth. Do they do litters? Mostly-single births? “Is that a lot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, kinda,” Snow says, as the air changes into something less intolerable. “I’m in the middle in regards to age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Snow, how do you fare with cats?” Agni says, catching up to him. Snow raises an eyebrow, and keeps moving. There’s a big bend in the road coming up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, the same as other animals, I guess? Which is not really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, no special connection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Agni, I can’t talk to cats or anything,” Snow says, “so don’t ask.” Armand huffs a laugh and Snow glances back at him, and he mimes zipping his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the weeks immediately following his chat with Master Evelyn he’d spent more time than he’d ever admit to holed up in the training ring, burning his body up as the ritual songs had burned through his mouth. Despite their reassurances he was still afraid; anything could happen. He’d spent a fortnight forcing down the fear, and then another fortnight building up the courage; through it all he heard their voice in his mind heckling him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bend comes up. There are steps. There is an enormous snake with its hood up, flanked by two smaller snakes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Butler holds out an arm, stopping them. “Watch out,” he says. “It might be hostile.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looks… possibly hostile, but Armand is no stranger to looking hostile by default, and this is a holy place. He goes up to the snakes and bows deeply, awaiting instructions; there’s a slithering and he chances looking up and sees the snakes move aside. They look at him, and he looks back, and at their gesture he moves on. They move back into position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One by one they pay obeisance to the snakes, who eye them for solid moments before letting them pass. One by one they rejoin Armand. The sun creeps across the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think we can watch Afhn’s fight?” Snow says, gesturing. From the edge of the cliff they can see him, transfigured into an enormous ape, fighting the four giants. “It doesn’t look like he's doing very well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why doesn’t he just fly up?” Agni says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll cast him down myself,” Armand says, low, putting a hand on his mace, practically shaking at the thought. Agni swallows loudly and puts out his pipe. The sun creeps, inexorable, across the sky. “What part of trials of a god does he not understand?” What part of for Sir Isteval does he not understand?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess not everyone believes in gods,” Snow says. Armand considers this and then clicks his tongue, getting up. Beneath him, Afhn staggers, a tiefling again. They’re wasting time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should at least do it for Sir Isteval! For- this is- this is for the support of those- those old men in the Order!” Well, not the old men, but the paladins. Of the old men who run the Order. The paladins who want Sir Isteval, who are otherwise on the fence, because the fate of the world isn’t enough, the rising dragon queen isn’t enough, Armand isn’t enough; they turn up their noses at demons at cultists seeking redemption at Armand asking for aid-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The highest earthly powers Armand answers to want a pretty face, not an ugly cause. He breathes in and pushes the thought away; the kernel of hate he allows himself has no place on this mountain. And Sir Isteval is more than just a pretty face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The giants finish beating up Afhn and confer amongst themselves, and then let him pass. He still has the hike. Armand crosses his arms and looks in Snow’s direction. Butler takes out a snack, and Agni, sensing safety, starts to smoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let the Order hear you calling them old men in that tone,” Snow says, getting up and patting dust off their legs, smirking at Armand. “Guys like that get upset real easy. I should know, my tribe’s chief is a real hardass himself,” they add in an undertone, and Armand laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” he says, “they can only punish me for consorting with demons. Being rude gets, what, twenty smacks on the wrist? It’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a short rise. There is a unicorn, shining opalescent in the sun, white and purple and gold in its mane and tail. It inclines its head at them, and coupled with the horn it’s not the welcoming gesture it seems to think it is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” he says, trying to make conversation. Conversation is good. Polite. “You, uh, close to your siblings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, we’re all very close,” they say. “I miss them.” Oh, shit. He pats Snow on the shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do actually- have two older siblings,” Armand volunteers, “aside from the sister. They’re- doing well for themselves. The eldest is staying safe. The second one’s a paladin of Lord Lathander, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That so?” Snow says, and Armand takes his hand back and nods. “I imagine you’re close to them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” Armand laughs, a little awkwardly. To the side, Butler offers Agni some of his snacks. “Do the words cloistered acolyte mean anything to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, no,” Snow says, ears lowering a little, “but I can see I touched a somewhat touchy subject; I apologize. Family had always been of the utmost importance in my tribe, so… ” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armand shakes his head. “It’s- it’s fine. I’Ve had about a decade to make peace with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” they say. “You don’t need to say any more- if you don’t want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armand nods. Enough sharing from him. They wait for Afhn. They think about the hike up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… what brings you out here by your lonesome?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snow’s ears flatten. They glance at the unicorn, and then take a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A certain… incident pretty much destroyed my family’s honor in the tribe,” they say. Oh. Shit. But they roll their shoulders and straighten their chest. “I’m here to reclaim it, which I think I’ve done already with these trophies,” they add, and then glance at the unicorn again and grin. “Seriously, first a golden stag and now a unicorn; my tribe is gonna flip. Assuming they believe me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… the trophies and your nice bow are… certainly things in your favor, I would say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” they say, and then prick their ears up. “I think Afhn’s coming. We can continue later.” Armand nods, and Snow gestures at the unicorn. They go first, putting their bow away and taking out a berry, kneeling to the unicorn and making their offering and plea. The unicorn considers it, eats the berry, and moves aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It meets Armand’s eyes and looks expectantly, and Armand bows. There’s the feeling of it raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rude child</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Armand hears in his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me why you’ve come.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Armand startles and starts to look up, and there’s a massive pressure that sends him to one knee. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me why you’ve come.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Why he’s come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We- we would petition The Morninglord, master unicorn,” Armand says instead. “For Sir Isteval. And we need to move forward. Please let us pass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It snorts, and then there’s a huff, and the unicorn noses at his hair. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pass, then. But you will have to do better than that in your last trial.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“My thanks,” he says, though he doesn’t understand, and it moves aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t hear what it says. Butler kneels, and Armand sees the unicorn snort again. Agni bows, and gets driven to both knees by that same pressure. They join him and Snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hear the snakes hissing and Armand’s heart stops for a moment. The sun creeps across the sky. The unicorn looks back at him and there’s the eyebrow-raised feeling again, and then the hissing stops and they see Afhn come up the pass. There’s only another short hike up; Armand can see the golden glow and the white pillars at the top of the mountain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afhn crosses his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a feeling of amusement and irritation both from the unicorn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Armand says. “Hasn’t he learned!!” Afhn is sent to one knee, then both, and then is sent sprawling. The unicorn waits, and then lets him up, and then he folds his arms again. Armand feels like he’s about to learn what the word conniption means. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, calm down,” Snow says, putting a hand on Armand’s shoulder. He wants to throw it off. Wants to punch Afhn. Wants to scream. “We’ve got time. What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Armand says, starting to pace, “we don’t have time for his nonsense, it’s a holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>day</span>
  </em>
  <span> which could- mean anything, Lord Lathander is the god of the sun, it’s possible that this place will only last until sundown and he’s being </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrogant</span>
  </em>
  <span> at a </span>
  <em>
    <span>unicorn-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm </span>
  <em>
    <span>down,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Snow says, but when Armand looks at them they’re also staring at Afhn with pinprick eyes, at the way Afhn looks like he’s wondering how much gold the horn and skin will sell for, and they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>bristling</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “You’re no good to anyone panicking,” they add through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. You’re right.” Armand drags his hands through his hair and pulls </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Behind them on the path, Afhn sighs heavily, rolls his eyes, and bows of his own volition. Makes his plea with his voice dripping with sarcasm. The unicorn moves aside. Afhn moves past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The unicorn rears up on its front legs and delivers a solid kick to Afhn’s ass, sending him sprawling. Agni pretends the high ground and shakes his head, clicking his tongue. Butler shakes his head and clicks his tongue in sincere disappointment. Armand hides a soft laugh behind his hand, and Snow </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span> “Thank you for trusting me with this, Master Armand,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I have some idea of how scary it must have felt. Rest assured; this doesn’t change our relationship. You’re a great priest, and I’m proud to stand by your side.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>So he’d said. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything at all, and when he’d gone Armand had found a convenient bathroom to vomit in, and then he’d gone home too numb with relief to do anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When August had taken him aside and told him about this opportunity he hadn’t hesitated. He’d nearly left the others, in fact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is an angel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground is smooth here and warm against Armand’s hands and forehead, on his knees, and he hears the huff of amusement and the angel bids him rise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pilgrims!” The angel says, voice booming across the summit. “Tell me why you have come!” Snow nudges him, and he steps forward. No space for fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We- we have come to petition the Lord Lathander!” Armand says, trying to match the angel. No space for fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then prove to me the strength of your convictions!” the angel says, drawing his flaming sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armand falls back, feeling Snow and Afhn do the same as Butler and Agni close in. And then everything is shouting and violence and the clash of weapons, Armand cursing the angel and marking him vulnerable and Afhn cursing the angel with regular profanity, and the angel laughing as he fends off their attacks. Snow fires off their shots. Afhn shoots a beam of fire at the angel, careless of Agni in the way. Butler’s sword crackles with power as he strikes at the angel again, and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You have the power equal to your request,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>August had said. When Armand gets back, he’s going to get such an earful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am your opponent! Son of Sehanine, see your companions fight for your cause!” the angel says, a beam of light coming down and spearing through both Afhn and Agni. “Show me your power, follower of Onatar!” Butler roars, lightning coursing through the angel as he keeps laughing, and Armand’s last curse makes the whole summit shine silver as Snow’s arrow flies to the angel’s heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beam of light lances down from the heavens and floods the summit in gold, and then there’s a second, </span>
  <em>
    <span>enormous</span>
  </em>
  <span>, angel, a Solar, there. The Solar gestures at Armand, which is the only thing keeping him from prostrating himself again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Lord Lathander will hear your petition,” the Solar says. “Approach, and speak.” Armand can feel Butler almost wanting to come forward and present the case, but if there was ever a place not for glory it’s this, and Armand steels himself and advances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir Isteval, representative of the minor cities,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>hero, dragonslayer, champion,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “suffers from an injury no mortal doctors can heal, Lord Angel,” Armand says. “We seek help from The Morninglord.” There. That was fine. He swallows as the Solar considers him. He hears Afhn muttering behind him and resists the urge to turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does he mean to you, Son of Sehanine?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Solar waits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He-” Armand clutches at his amulet. “He represents- Unity, Lord Angel. With his strength the paladins of the Order of the Gauntlet will- they will answer his call. They believe in Sir Isteval, Lord Angel.” The Solar considers him and then his face </span>
  <em>
    <span>shifts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he leans down, handsome and grizzled and dark-haired and impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What does he mean to you, Son of Sehanine?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You will have to do better than that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a gleam in the Solar-Isteval’s eyes that Armand doesn’t understand but doesn’t dare turn away from. He doesn’t know what the Solar wants. He doesn’t know what Lord Lathander wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is hope, Lord Angel,” Armand says. “For- for a better future. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>future. Without Sir Isteval’s help against the dragon Tiamat I do not like our odds, but the Order will rally to him. We- I am not enough. I- I need him, Lord Angel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Solar considers Armand. Armand stands under the burning gaze of Lord Lathander’s emissary, until finally he speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isteval’s suffering is by his own doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You call him hero, dragonslayer, champion,” the Solar says, plucking the words from Armand’s chest, as he straightens and shifts his face again, Lord Lathander’s Solar once more. “And he was, when he began. But as his power grew Isteval slew dragons in pursuit of fame and left Lord Lathander’s light. His arrogance drew him to older and older prey, and in the fight against the green dragon that gave him his injury countless warriors died on the altar of his glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His injury is only that: an injury. The true source of his grief is the loss of the immense power Lord Lathander’s love gave him. He has turned away from the warmth and fumbles in the cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A suit of armor, shining white and gold, drifts down from the Solar’s hand and into Armand’s startled embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here is the Lord Lathander’s offer, Son of Sehanine. This armor is a gift; it will ease his pain, provide him with strength beyond imagining. He will be a beacon of hope to those around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of your number will take the burden of Lord Isteval’s pride, until after the fight with the dragon Tiamat. A small loss of the power to which you are accustomed; It will serve for your purposes. But after that, it will return to him and there it will remain, until he atones for his sins.” The Solar stands there, beautiful and terrible and shining, waiting for an answer. Armand stares back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And kneels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small loss of the power to which he is accustomed. Armand has been powerless all his life; he can endure this much. This is enough. Sir Isteval is enough. “I will take it, Lord Angel,” he says, and the Solar laughs softly. There’s a clatter as the others move, Armand noting that their protests but not hearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rise and dry your eyes, Son of Sehanine. There is hope for Isteval yet, if his nobility drives men to such heights. It will not be you. Nor you, and you,” he says, pointing to Snow and Butler. He considers Agni and Afhn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take it,” Agni says, coming forward. “I haven’t felt peace like I have on this mountain in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brave man,” the Solar says, taking his hand. “Your soul is steeped in vice and sin, but there is hope for you as well. Reach for redemption.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be you,” the Solar says, pointing a hand at Afhn with a voice like thunder, and the mountain shakes and Afhn falls to the ground clutching at his head and screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well fought, heroes!” The angel says, flying off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have hope,” the Solar says, shining on them again before starting to rise. “You have your answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mountain is gone, and they’re on the outskirts of Daggerford. Armand and Snow heal their injuries and give Afhn medicine to dull the pain. Armand dries his eyes. The evening comes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the morning there will be reports to their organizations. A letter to Sir Isteval. A letter from Sir Isteval. For now, they make their way to an inn.</span>
</p>
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